After nearly three hours of staring at this screen, I managed to get tickets to two games. I’ll be going to the July 31 game against the Cleveland Indians and the August 31 match-up versus the Toronto Blue Jays. For the Jays tickets, I got the “Walkway Traffic Advisory.” Truth be told, that warning should apply to three-quarters of the seats at Fenway given the odd angles and narrow aisles. The warning could have read “Avian Flu Advisory”--after three hours, I’m still buying tickets.

There must be a better way of doing ticket sales that is still scalper-resistant. As a non-season ticket holder, I’m disappointed to see that the special ticket privileges that Red Sox Nation members used to have aren’t being reinstated as of yet. In fact, renewals for 2006 aren’t even being offered at this time.

Sitting outside of town
Everybody’s always down
(Tell me why)

Because they can’t get up
(Ahhh... Come on and get up)
Up from the waiting room

It's sad to see how tough it has become for a ticket quest. It's the same for UCONN basketball games, men and women. If you do not donate to the school, your season seats keep getting pushed back farther and farther. It doesn't matter that you've been a faithful ticket holder for however many years, the buck wins out. Sad.

Wow a quote from fugazi, the breadth of your knowledge never ceases to amaze me! I was actually thinking the exact same thing while I was "sitting in the waiting room". Well, at least it's a good song to think of. I don't know what I was thinking, I actually thought it wasn't going to be so difficult to get tickets this year. thank god (or the front office) for christmas at fenway the past couple of years.

Fugazi reminiscence: The band came to Hawai‘i and played a gig in the Campus Center Ballroom (despite the name, there was nothing swanky about it). As a member of the activities and events board, I got volunteered to be “security.” If you’ve seen me in person, I’m not the most intimidating personage you can conjure up (barely 5 feet tall and around 7 stone at the time). I had just broken up with my boyfriend at the time, who was a lead singer of a local band and was related to Chris Cornell. Let’s just say that if there are genes that endow their bearers with astounding voices, the supply is limited to a single family member. His voice wasn’t awful; in retrospect, it sounded a bit like Ian MacKaye’s but capable of greater sonority. But I digress.

Said boyfriend and his lead guitarist saw me at the concert with my “security” t-shirt. I didn’t see them at the time, but later, during an attempt at reconciliation, he mentioned that they saw me and had a good chortle. I didn’t care; I saved $5.

We broke up again some time later. That’s what happens when someone writes a song about you that is entitled with the name of a poisonous flower.